


the scum beneath your fingernails

by irgmugurg



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Acting Out, Aftermath of Violence, Alcohol, Anger, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Barely Any Romance, Blood, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Bruises, Canonical Character Death, Character Study, Comfort/Angst, Conflict Resolution, Demons, Depression, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotionally Repressed, Everyone Needs A Hug, F/M, Family Feels, Fighting, Gen, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Heavy Angst, Hiding, Hiding Medical Issues, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Going to Hell, Illegal Activities, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Impulse Control, Impulsivity, Lilith is mentioned multiple times, Lucifer cares but holy shit does he not know how to show it, M/M, Mammon (Obey Me)- Centric, Mentions of Lilith, Mild Painplay, Minor Injuries, Out of Character, Pain, Past Domestic Violence, Past Relationship(s), Protective Older Brothers, Protectiveness, Reader With Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Reader tries their best, Reader-Insert, References to Depression, Self-Destruction, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Serious Injuries, Talking, Trauma, Unresolved Emotional Tension, What-If, Whump, Wounds, but not really, each of the brothers try to help in their own ways, his brothers worry for Mammon but hide it with insults and jokes, if any part of the reader isn't gender neutral please tell me so I can fix it, jesus this sounds so dark, like most of the story takes place in his point of view, protective little brothers, romance isn't the main idea, still an x reader but the focus is moreso on mammon and his issues, talking about emotions, underground fighting, warning: a very mammon centric fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-13 21:21:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28660149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irgmugurg/pseuds/irgmugurg
Summary: “You’re the most pathetic of all of your brothers.”The statement silences the ring. Words echo against the walls and drift through the shocked silence. It’s rare for someone to speak so openly against the avatars. The demon leans closer.“It’s pitiful.”Mammon doesn’t stop himself this time. He aims for his bruised ribs. There is a loud crack before the demon falls again.Mammon knows he’s too far gone. He’s broken the rules.Yet...now, Mammon can’t find it in him to care. Didn’t Lucifer do the same? The first to fight for Lilith, the first against Father’s orders. That day in heaven when he held Mammon close to him before the battle had truly begun. Wings wrapped around him, tears streaking down his face. Back then he told Mammon that he loved him, that he loved all of them. That if Lilith fell then so would he, bloodied and beaten if he had to (there was no winning, they both knew it back then). But that he’d protect them the best he could nonetheless.But Mammon’s bruises weren’t protection.And being called scum wasn’t love.
Relationships: Main Character/Mammon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Mammon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!) & Reader, Mammon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader
Comments: 159
Kudos: 345





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is exploring the darker (more demonic/hellish) side of Mammon's relationship with his brothers and more exclusively Lucifer. Think the Devilgram "One Too Many Insults" but instead of Mammon running away he joins an underground fighting ring. 
> 
> While this is TECHNICALLY a Mammon/reader fic majority of it is in Mammon's point of view and is exploring Mammon's emotions and his relationship with his brothers. 
> 
> Also, thanks to celestialcowboy for betaing and for spitballing random ideas of the brothers at 3 am.

The Devildom’s night air pools in the hidden alleyways. Sinking into the cracks and crevices of broken-down buildings. Despite Mammon’s leather jacket the cold still digs into his skin. He shivers, sore arms barely holding himself together. He could still feel the faint burn of the rope across his skin. There was a tingle where the chafed skin healed. He let his head roll across his shoulders, his blood swirling in his rage.

He continues walking. The alleyway walls roll high into the sky, stretching for the Heavens. 

No matter how many times it happens. No many how many times he was strung up and belittled it never mattered. They were always right. He was  _ scum _ . He stole and lied to his own family. Who does that? -Mammon grunts, slamming his fist against a wall. The cement crumbles under his skin, blood mixing with rock. The pain mixes in with the rest- But it was always him. 

He indulged in his sin, just like the others. Asmo had broken his fair share of beds. Satan had let his anger consume him and demolished whatever laid in his path. Hell, Beel eats everyone's food! And yet when Lucifer blew up it was at  _ him!  _

It was something minor, something Mammon didn’t even do. He pleaded not to be tied up, that it wasn’t him. Lucifer could only look at him with cold disappointment in his eyes.  _ The _ look. He has become accustomed to that look but it always hurts. The faint shame and disdain, knowing that Mammon hasn’t done good. That he never does good. 

Then you, the sweet human that you are begged Lucifer not to, to stop, he only brushed you off. The simple excuse of “it’s family business.” The humiliation of you seeing him like that...Face flushed in dizziness, blood rushing to his head as he swung back and forth, the pain of the ropes biting into him didn’t matter. Not when you looked up at him, brows furrowed, apology in your eyes and slipped away. Not when he could see how, even for a second you questioned that maybe he did do it. And that hurt more than any punishment that Lucifer could dish out.

“Bastard…” Mammon mumbles, pushing his hands into his pockets. His scraped knuckles tingle in pain but Mammon can’t bring himself to care. What was more pain to him? To scum?

He finds himself walking further into the dark. Into the hidden paths and trashed streets. The city lights don’t shine here, the stars covered with shitty balconies and awnings.  _ This _ is where scum lives.  _ This _ is where Mammon belongs. Gradually the ringing in his head becomes dull. The blood finally settles in his veins but the anger stays. 

“I needa drink…” Something to make him feel dull, nonexistent. To not think about his mistakes and problems. To not think of Lucifer and his brothers. To not think of how you looked at him…

Mammon takes in his surroundings. Grime covered buildings and desolate homes. The pathways don’t look familiar anymore, they started to mingle hours ago but Mammon can’t find it in him to go back. He doesn’t want to see Lucifer’s pompous face. He needs to water down his anger with something, anything. 

He continues on, the soles of his shoes start to bite into his feet. He’d find a bar or sketchy casino soon enough. There was plenty of that to go around Devildom after all. 

  
  


...

  
  


The faint cheering is what draws him in. Hoops and hollers from a seemingly abandoned building. The filth of Devildom all over it. It’s a place that Mammon would never go, outside of looking for a deal but now… Now he’d do anything to not feel. 

Mammon doesn’t know what to expect when he enters the building. The large front doors creak and groan when he slides them open. The cheers spill into the alley along with the faint sound of punches. 

The room expands out, filling the building floor. Stairways and ladders lead to higher levels and platforms to look down at the center. Every inch of available space is filled with demons. Their bodies bump and press against each other, it’s almost suffocating. 

_ Thwack...Thwack!...Wack…Thud! _

Mammon finally lets his eyes drift toward the center. The lights all focus on the ring. Two large demons fill the arena. The larger one dominates, his wings spread out in pride, lips pulled back in a sadistic grin. Blood covers the canvas, sparkling in the light. In a terrible way, it’s beautiful. In the way that Mammon can’t bring himself to look away. The bodies push and pull around him like waves but Mammon shifts with the waters, eyes on the fight. 

The screams grow louder until a sickening crunch resounds from the demon on the floor. Their screams mingle with the crowds until a sharp bell rings out. It’s beyond disgusting. 

An announcer enters the ring, flying onto the stage. He pulls a microphone to his face before raising the larger demon's hand. The blood that coats the wraps shines in the light. The crowd screams, chanting his name. His wings flap back behind him and he roars, a grin plastered onto his face. 

“And that’s what happens when you challenge The  **DESTROYER** !” 

Mammon doesn’t need to be Lucifer to feel the pride radiating off of him. He looks down at the crowd with eyes that show nothing but devilish victory. He scans the crowd soaking in their praise. He raises his arms demanding more. Until his eyes reach Mammon’s. Among the ocean of demons, his eyes catch his and Mammon blanches at the look in his eyes. He can feel the greed. The need for more than victory, the need for a show of power. -He points one clawed finger at Mammon, the crowd turns.- The need for an absolute crushing defeat. 

“Oh! Gahaha! Is that...could it be?!” He draws out his words, pulling in the crowd's attention. “One of the avatars of sin? Aha!” Despite how full the room is the demons push away from Mammon with hisses and jeers. A light turns toward him, showering him in attention. He raises a sore hand to shield his eyes. “I can’t believe it! One of the _elite._ ” He spits the words out as if acid. “Oh...Oh, I’m sorry! Nevermind it’s just _The_ _Great_ _Mammon_.” Laughter is scattered throughout the building. Yet it surrounds him. Mammon leans inward on himself, trying to make himself smaller. “The Scummy Second-born, right?” He laughs, a low guttural thing. A hand pushes him forward and another and another until he is basking in the arena’s light. A laughing demon shoves him into the ring. 

The cheers sound louder from here. It pools on the rings canvas and reverberates through his feet. Mammon can feel the panic rise in his throat. __

_ Fuck, fuck, fuck.  _

He should have never come here. He needs to leave. If Lucifer finds him like this? He’ll never forgive him. He’ll string him up for centuries (at that thought Mammon can feel his anger start to rise). 

The Destroyer stalks closer. He towers over Mammon with a look in his eyes. Amusement. Mammon feels sick to his stomach. 

It’s been centuries since Mammon last fought. He’d rather try to avoid as much trouble as he can. If one of the avatars were seen beating on defenseless demons it would be frowned upon. He can hear Lucifer’s voice. They have a reputation to uphold. Mammon curls his hands into fists at his side as he backs up. If Lucifer found out he-

“You’re the most pathetic of all of your brothers.” 

The statement silences the ring. Words echo against the walls and drift through the shocked silence. It’s rare for someone to speak so openly against the avatars. The Destroyer leans closer. 

“ _ It’s pitiful _ .” Spittle flies out of his mouth. Mammon looks away in revulsion. When his eyes catch the crowd he can see their shock turn to wolfish grins. Mammon turns, glaring at the demon. 

“What? Too afraid to do something? Is it me?” He turns, addressing the crowd. “Or is it the mighty Lucifer?... Diavolo? You wouldn’t want to anger your bosses, huh? You too scared of what they might do?” He swivels, cornering mammon against the ropes. The grin splits into his cheeks, fangs biting into his lips. Mammon eyes the blood splatters on his face.“Huh?!” He barks, shoving his maw into Mammon’s face. 

  
His hand cracks across Mammon’s face and the crowd screams. They want violence. They want blood. 

Mammon’s face burns, the tinge of shame blooms across his cheeks. He can feel his resolve crack. He moves to the ledge of the ring, ready to leave. To find somewhere else, anywhere else that would take him. His back ignites in pain as his wings pierce through his skin, jutting through the leather of his jacket. 

“Come on, scum!” There is anger to his taunts now. Mammon doesn’t see it but he can feel the air change. There’s movement, the shuffle of feet before a claw tears through the membrane of his wings. And in the moment of it all, it's quiet. 

The demons look up at him, watching in sick anticipation. The light shines down on them, catching in their eyes and the gleam of their shining white fangs. Hundreds of eyes look up at him, though he only sees the refraction. 

**You’re just a waste of space, Mammon.**

He should just go home. It’s late. He’s tired. He hurts. His fist pulses, knuckles hiss in pain. His wing flaps, searing hot pain through the muscles and onto its fingers. He hurts, he hurts so fucking much. 

**  
** **How are you my brother? Seriously, it’s pathetic.**

He just wishes he could go to you, curl into your warm arms. Tell you all his woes and sorrows. You’d listen, you always did, brushing your fingertips against the nape of his neck. Pressing somber kisses to his forehead. Loving him endlessly and fully.

Though, he doesn’t deserve it. Why would scum like him deserve unconditional love?

**I only asked this one thing of you Mammon and you can’t even do that.**

But...would you now? How your brows furrowed, lips downturned as you fiddled with your fingers. You looked so lost then. You watched him, fingers brushing against his hair as it fell away from his eyes. At that moment your eyes reminded him of Lucifer’s. Eyes dead cold with disappointment. 

**Go die, Mammon. Just go die for all I care.**

He wishes Lilith was here. He wishes you trusted him. He wishes Lucifer still loved him, wish his brothers still loved him.

“Come on!” The demon's voice cracks as he surges forward again. His claws furl into the leather of his jacket and snap him backward. Mammon brings his fist up, anticipating the next hit before turning back to the ropes. The feeling of his power resonating through him. Breaking him down and reverberating through his bones. 

But he doesn’t feel the pain anymore. Not really. It mingles in with everything else. 

**Why did I have to have such utter** **_scum_ ** **as my brother?**

_ Another hit. A kick.  _

Why couldn’t he have died instead of Lilith? Maybe then his brothers would be happy. Maybe then everything would be different. 

His claws tear into his skin, pulling at him. Dragging him into the limelight. Mammon lets himself be dragged, head hanging low. He watches his shadow. He can almost see the shine of his halo. The spread of his wings. The heavenly glow of prosperity. 

Prosperity. Ha. What-a-fucking joke. 

This is how he’ll die. With the image, the thought of prosperity. Of a luminous life in the heavens with his family hanging over him as if a burden. 

Maybe this time, maybe...Father will have enough pity to let him be with Lilith.

...

Mammon can taste the blood in his mouth before he feels his grasp leaves the Destroyer’s arm. He can feel the bone prodding against his hand. The sickening crack is what brings him back to the moment. 

The Destroyer lies against the floor, body twisted in agony. His face is pressed against the floor, horns digging into the bloodied matt. Mammon holds his palm in his hand, talons digging into the flesh. It’s twisted backward in a way that almost makes him want to vomit. 

His foot presses into the ribcage of the Destroyer's curled body. Mammon can’t help but think of how expensive these shoes are, only to be covered in his blood. To think he used to be an angel centuries ago.

Despite the Destroyer’s gaping mouth and the echoes of a scream, Mammon doesn’t hear it. Not through the cheers. The flutter of wings and whipping of tails, their shrill howls, and shrieks. The air fills with their bloodlust. 

In a way, it reminds Mammon of The War. The moment Lilith fell. The moment Mammon let his anger pave the path to his downfall. The moment he truly fell from heaven’s grace. 

Mammon drops his hand and steps back, back pressed against the ropes. His hands scramble to hold himself up. He feels claustrophobic, even with the open space. The screams push in on him, caging him. As if this was a dog fight. Eye pooled in on him, watching from the safety. Ready for the blood and gore. 

The Destroyer can sense it. He must because as he shuffles to get up Mammon can see the fear in his eyes. The fear of losing, a dog who knows it’s cornered. Still, he raises a hand, the other hanging limply at his side. 

“Yo-” He spits a tooth onto the canvas. Disgusting.“You got the drop on me there. I can admit that.” He shuffles again but Mammon can see through it. He knows that posture, he’s had that posture. A weak attempt at feigning strength. The nights where the ropes had eventually scrapped against his skin long enough to bore blood. Tearing into his rib cage and pulling at his muscles. An anger surges through Mammon. The feeling of the blood going to his head, bloodshot eyes, and the static of his limbs. 

The Destroyer rushes at him, roaring. Mammon doesn’t stop himself this time. He dodges, moving to the side, arms curled toward his face. He aims for his bruised ribs. There is a loud crack before the Destroyer falls again. 

Mammon knows he’s too far gone. He’s broken the rules. Though it feels so good. To finally let his anger out, to finally let go of the breath he had been holding in for centuries. Still...

_ Another hit. _

But now, well, now Mammon can’t find it in him to care. Didn’t Lucifer do the same? The first to fight for Lilith, the first against Father’s orders. He had broken his own word. That day in heaven when he held Mammon close to him, before the battle had truly begun. Wings wrapped around him, tears streaking down his face. Back then he had told Mammon he wouldn’t ask him to fight. Back then he told Mammon that he loved him, that he loved all of them. That if Lilith fell then so would he, bloodied and beaten if he had to (there was no winning, they both knew it back then). But that he’d protect them the best he could nonetheless. 

Mammon’s bruises weren’t protection. 

_ A kick, screams filling the tainted air.  _

And being called scum wasn’t love. 

Mammon presses his heel into the Destroyer’s back, pushing him out of the ring. His limp body falling to the demons below. 

If Lucifer could break his word then so could he. 

“Ladies and gentlemen!” The announcer emerges from behind him, hand grappling onto his and pulling it into the pale light. “We have a winner!” 

What would Lilith think of him now? Mammon looks across the sea of demons. He heaves, muscles straining. From the center of the ring, it almost looks ethereal. A blurry sea of colors, wings flapping and fists raised to the sky. These demons, despite their need for a winner, for something more... are cheering...for....him.

Mammon.

The scummiest of the 7 brothers. 

And it feels...good. His wounds burn with a feeling he’s almost forgotten. A feeling so foreign despite Mammon always basking in its trail. 

_ Pride _ .

This was pride. 

And well...he figures, Lilith can’t see him anyways. She’s dead and the Mammon she knew died alongside her. 

Mammon brings his limp hand and raises it towards the sky. Towards the heavens. 

The crowd cheers louder.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He knows he deserves it. He’s a kleptomaniac fool who always gets what’s coming to him, but he still wishes, hopes that he deserves better. 
> 
> He cries. Not for Lucifer, not for his pain. For the built-up anger in his bones. His fist curl under the blanket, brows furrowed.
> 
> He dreams, for a moment when he’d lie against Lilith, the light of celestial stars shining upon them. 
> 
> And yet, still, he finds himself missing your warmth.

Mammon finally manages to slither into his room just as the Devildom sky brightens. A counterfeit morning, a delusion of the human realm. The superficial colors gives enough light for Mammon to see the sluggish forms of dirty clothes and couches. He throws himself onto his bed. His sweet, sweet bed. 

He lazily wraps himself in the sheets, knowing he’ll have to throw them away. No amount of washing will be able to rid the sheets of the stench. Sweat and oxidized blood tends to linger. 

He curls, back arching against the soft mattress.

_ Fuck. _

Mammon wants to feel frustrated. His body is coated in bruises and scratch marks, more so than when he had left that night. His brothers will see, there is no hiding that. No amount of Asmo’s makeup will be able to hide the swollen and blackened skin beneath his eyes nor the deep gashes. 

Yet his body still boils with adrenaline. The exhilaration of throwing the first punch, of tackling your enemy to the ground. It fills him up. A smile breaks onto his face, tearing open his split lip. The rope burns aren’t the only thing that hurt anymore. The pain from Lucifer’s punishment is muddled alongside the other injuries. He doesn’t have that power over Mammon anymore. 

He finally, for the first time that night lets his eyes drift close. Finally.

_ Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! _

Mammon lets out a long exaggerated groan as he throws himself forward. He pats the sheets looking for his phone. He left it somewhere around here last night. Ah! He snatches it, quickly pressing the dismiss button. He glances at the time with a frown. He’s missed 30 of his previous alarms. He barely has time for a shower. He sheds the blankets, starting to pull off his clothes on the way to the bathroom. He’ll be damned if he gets another punishment for looking like utter shit. 

He kicks off his destroyed shoes along with his fragmented jacket, aiming loosely for the trashcan, and turns on the shower. He lets the water burn. Pain blossoms across his body, he groans, leaning against the wall. The water settles into his injuries. Wetting dried blood and polishing bruises.

Mammon lets the water wash away his fears. They’ll heal soon. It’ll all heal soon. Yet, he basks in the feeling. In the hurt and anger for a second longer.

He’s not  _ that _ much of a masochist. He can take a good disciplining but this pain is different. It soothes him in a way that a lover's rough hands can’t. It’s destructive. It hurts. It fuels him. 

He loves it.

...

The dining room chatter is like any other day. He can hear the faint jokes and yells for Beelzebub to leave their food alone. The same as any other day. As if they never heard his screams. As if yesterday never happened. 

But, of course, why would they remember. It doesn’t matter. It’ll happen again and again for as long as Mammon lives. For as long as he suffers under Lucifer’s hand. They’ve stopped caring long ago. So why does he?

He enters with his eyes downcast. He busies himself with going through Devilgram, his messages, anything to not have to look them in the eyes. 

The table gradually goes quiet. Because, of course, it does. They can smell the wounds, the rotten blood. It lingers like death.

Mammon shuffles to his seat, determined to finish his meal before they can ask too many questions. 

“Wow Mammon, and here I thought you liked your modeling job.” Asmo questioned. The words are strained and rough. He hums, gorging himself on bread. They both know Lucifer isn’t so public with his punishments (besides taking away Mammon’s main source of income would be criminally stupid).

“Holy shiiit! Lucifer really went hard on you this time lolol! You really gotta learn not to piss him off.” Levi laughs from behind his screen, his eyes linger on his wounds. 

There is a deep growl, the clatter of silverware. “ **Who** ?” Beelzebub presses against the table, claws cracking porcelain. “ **Who did it?** ” Beel, ever so valent catches on quickly. He knows Lucifer’s handiwork (they all do) when he sees it and can quickly tell the nature of these new bruises. These bruises are wild and grotesque, not within the confines of rope burns and red eyes. 

Mammon shrugs, moving towards the pastries. “No one.” Mammon suspects he’s the only one who truly cares. Though does trauma from Lilith’s death mask the fact that it’s Mammon? That it doesn’t really matter anyway? That he deserves it?

There’s a mingling of words. Asmo trying to calm Beelzebub and snarky comments from Belphegor before-

“Mammon. I hope you didn’t get into much trouble. I thought you would have learned from last night to not cause such public disputes.” He watches from the head of the table, sipping on his tea. Lucifer’s red eyes stapled onto him. He demands an answer. He demands submission.

Mammon can’t stop himself, anger boiling over. “Oh don’t worry. Your precious little reputation is fine.” The words spill from his mouth with a mixture of hisses and growls. He lets his fork fall to the table, he suddenly doesn’t feel so hungry anymore. “Just a little scuffle. Nothing you should be bothered with oh-so-mighty Lucifer.” 

His brother’s freeze. The thinly veiled disobedience entices a fire in Lucifer. Avatar of Pride and all. It’s been ages since their last  _ real _ fight. Mammon knows he’ll lose. Even with his demonic healing, there are too many wounds for him to even put up a fight. Lucifer’s eyes narrow, he sets his cup down gently. 

“Watch your mouth, Mammon.”

Mammon scoffs, pushing his seat back. “String me up all you want. I don’t give a  **_fuck_ ** .” It’s suicidal, borderline cataclysmic but what else is he supposed to do? He’s taken this for centuries upon centuries. Cried and begged for mercy for eons. Nothing has changed. He turns, hiding his wince with a jagged step forward, squaring his shoulders. 

He doesn’t hear the footsteps until it’s too late. The tension is cut with your soothing voice. Though it isn’t calm and soft as it usually is. There’s a certain fear that hides behind your tone. 

“Wh...what is going on here?” Mammon’s eyes catch yours and he watches the horror settle into your features. Your face scrunched in disgust. “M-Mammon. What-what happened to you?” You scramble forward, hand reaching out to him and he flinches. 

“Nothing.” His voice cracks. 

**_Scum_ ** _. _

He moves from the table, grabbing his phone and lofting his schoolbag onto his shoulder. “I have some new leads for a deal before school. I can’t take you.” He avoids your eyes. Your ludicrous glare. You think he’s pathetic, don’t you? Just like his brothers. That same look you had in your eyes last night. The fear. Understanding. 

Lucifer stands from his seat, teacup clattering against his plate when he slams his hands down. “Mammon!” 

He pushes past his brothers, making a break for the doors. Who sputters before reaching out to him. 

“Mammon!” Your voice makes him stop. If only for a second. You sound...so so terrified. So worried. But it can’t be for him. Maybe for the impending clash between him and Lucifer. Never for him. He moves towards the door as fast as he can without running. The air is suffocating. 

He slams the door shut and makes a break for the outside. He’d fly away if his wing wasn’t still torn. So instead he makes a detour. He turns towards the forest, the path carved with dirt and pebbles. 

He runs, hair pressed against his forehead. Breath coming up in choppy exhales. Tears well in his eyes but he doesn’t let himself cry. He moves onward, the House of Lamentation behind him. 

He tries not to think he’s leaving you behind. 

* * *

Mammon doesn’t remember exact faces. From his place in the ring, he could only see large defining features but within the school hallways? He can recognize every single one of them. 

Typically when he marches through the school hallways (the ones he’d typically pull you through, why does he feel so cold?) he’d catch glances or a shout for another card game but the atmosphere has shifted, folded beneath the waves of attention and smiles. 

He can’t remember exact faces but he can recognize the sick joy in their eyes. Lips spread far too wide to be normal, cutting into cheekbones and narrowed eyes, challenging him. No one would tell...right? 

The Devildom wasn’t exactly a lawless place. With Diavolo as the current reigning power he’d placed new laws into effect, protections against the exchange students. He had put together a system out of their chaos but every system has their clogs. With the advancement of Devildom law, there was also an advancement of underground businesses, things that Diavolo wouldn’t support. Illegal casinos and potions, money laundering, the extortion of weaker demons, and the magic that Devildom held. Among it all, illegal fighting rings sat low on the totem pole, yet if Lucifer were to find out...

Still, no one in Devildom was a snitch. Being found out would result in a pain worse than any punishment that Diavolo could hand out. Yet...Mammon couldn’t help but be wary of their stares. 

He pulls his jacket closer, grappling himself to the reality of the fabric. 

The eyes don’t leave him and the smiles only grow wider.

  
  


...

  
  


His locker slams close. He barely has time to move his fingers from its jaws as he yelps. 

“Tell me what happened to you. Now.” 

Satan presses against the locker, Beel led behind him. They both wear matching scowls. Mammon cringes, attempting to evade their glares.

  
“We aren’t stupid. We know something happened.”

He furrows his brows, luging his backpack strap onto his shoulder. He evens his voice out, steeling himself. 

“A deal gone wrong.” 

Satan scoffs, following the flow of the hallway as he tracks Mammon.”Plenty of your deals have gone wrong, none of them have injured you like this. Tell us the truth Mammon.” He pulls at his clothes, almost like an incessant toddler. 

Mammon finds himself scoffing. Satan, the pretentious jerk was never above passive insults. Never above laughing at Mammon’s pain. He revels in it almost as much as Lucifer. It’s a game to him or perhaps even, time for him to bring out his “sleuthing skills”. It isn’t about Mammon, it can’t be because he couldn’t matter that much to Satan if he even tried. 

“Mammon…” Beel shuffles behind, a lamb to his anger. Mammon can’t find it in him to be as angry at him. However, his role as Lucifer’s guard dog doesn’t escape him. They all followed him to hell, Mammon can’t fault him for his young naivety. His pitiful glances as he watched Lucifer punish him though, is another story. 

“Mammon!” Satan pushes against him, claws curling into bruised skin. 

“You never cared before!” The hordes of demons that press pass pause, watching the spectacle. 

Satan stumbles back, shocked. “What do you-”

“No matter how many bruises or rope burns! Or, or, or-” Their eyes focus in on them, watching, waiting, hoping for a show. Mammon can feel the pressure in his chest built, he grabs at his tie, grounding himself. “You just let it happen!” He knows he deserves it. He’s a kleptomaniac fool who always gets what’s coming to him, but he still wishes, hopes that he deserves better. 

“...Mammon, is that how yo-” 

There are giggles within the crowd betwixt the gossip. 

It’s about him. They’re laughing at him. At how pathetic and stupid he is. The scummy demon lord. Their words dig beneath his bruised and contorted flesh.

“Mammo-” 

“I’m going to be late for class.” It comes out in a jumbled mess of garble as Mammon runs off. He forces himself not to cry, not at school. Not where they’d all laugh and scoff at his insignificant feelings. 

He finds himself in his car, the smooth interior fresh against his skin. It lulls him into a sleep that he hasn’t had in years. He curls into the seat, tilted as far as he can, a blanket pulled haphazardly upon him.

He cries. Not for Lucifer, not for his pain. For the built-up anger in his bones. His fist curl under the blanket, brows furrowed. 

He can’t do anything. He’s resigned to the same fate he always has. Perhaps this is his true punishment. 

Mammon falls asleep with soft music drifting in from the radio. Wet cheeks and clenched fists. He dreams, for a moment when he’d lie against Lilith, the light of celestial stars shining upon them. 

And yet, he finds himself missing your warmth. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm happy that I got some comments on the previous chapter! They made me super happy, I was worried no one would like this :) We still have a long way ahead of us but I think I may do a double upload tomorrow just to get it out of the way. It's not gonna be like 20 chapters long but I'd rather not drag it out weeks, ya know?
> 
> Please tell me what you think in the comments! I'd love to hear what y'all have to say!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The light hits him oh so beautifully, in a way that the blood shines so sweetly. But even then it looks so...wrong against his skin. It frames his face (that looks oh-so lonely without his smile) in red highlights and dark shadows.
> 
> Despite the gore, you can’t help but think he’s so beautiful. 
> 
> You watch in agonizing pain. Heart split open at the horrors. You watch until the fight is over and the announcer stalks forward, raising Mammon’s hand high. He smiles -no, he smirks, watching the crowd scream his name. He bathes in the afterglow and it looks so unlike him. 
> 
> This isn’t your first man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank y'all so much for the comments! They mean a lot to me and in thanks, I present an extra-long chapter! I hope yall enjoy!

Violence, despite being a daily occurrence (being in  _ hell  _ and all ), isn’t something Mammon typically favors. Not amongst brothers. The hold of their bond, the war, Lilith, keeps Mammon from breaking most days. He’s their older brother, he can’t fall apart so easily. 

When this had all started (so innocently) Mammon had excused everything. He told himself that there was pride in his tolerance, a bald-faced lie. There is no power in being beat into submission. There is no strength in the patience of animosity. 

Still, violence plagues him during his punishments. Lucifer’s stone face. His brother’s laughter. It slices through his demeanor thoughtlessly. It’s savage in how it wrecks him. It leaves him raw and barren of emotion. 

Sins aren’t supposed to hurt like his does.

When they first fell, engulfed in the flames of sin, it had seared him. Branded him in guilt when he couldn’t stop himself from stealing. Precious metals and gems, love letters and sonnets, watches, and pearls. Miscellaneous little things they would be sure to notice. Anything to fill the hole Lilith left behind. To seal away the feelings that dripped from him. But he couldn’t steal an emotion. A feeling of content, knowing you’re safe and loved. No matter how much he’d take and take and take and take it was never enough to feel that way.

And even then if he could...Mammon wouldn’t even know if he’d take it. Stealing such a thing would haunt him. He couldn’t let anyone feel how he felt. 

So he filled it with pain. Nothing hides pain as violence does. Until it doesn't. Until Mammon was getting punished for things he never did. Until his brother’s called him scum and pathetic. Until the hole inside him was bigger than anything pain could fill.

He still couldn’t fight back. How could he when Lilith's ghost wavered in front of him? When their times in the celestial realms drown his dreams? If it was for a semblance of that then maybe it was alright?

He’d be the scapegoat if it meant they could smile. If they could laugh at his pain then he’d hold the brunt of it. It’s what big brothers do, right?

Until you came and then he had someone to be proud for. Someone to please and impress. Someone that mattered. You showed him how to be happy again. To have pride in your emotions. That love isn’t such a fickle thing to be latent with insults. 

Yet love is what held him back from it all. Lucifer held the most guilt by far. He held promises so deep that his loyalties became shredded. He sold his freedom for Lilith’s life. An eternity of servitude for a blink of an eye. For his little sister to have what they never could. Peace. 

Mammon knew he made so many problems, so maybe, maybe atoning here, with submission to an anger wrongly placed would heal their rift. He had made himself a martyr for Lucifer only to be treated like scum.

How are you supposed to feel when the one you look up to most thinks your nothing but scum beneath their fingernails?

And so Mammon found himself back at that old building. The announcer smiling down at him. “You know, once you get in the ring they always come back. Whether they like it or not.” 

Mammon ignores him, it’s all he can do. 

“Right this way, sir. There is a locker room in case you need to get ready.” Mammon nods, following loosely behind. Demons turn their heads as he walks past, whispers fill the air. 

_ “A demon lord?” _

_   
“Yea, he was here the other night. Guess He’s a regular now.” _

_ “Oh! I can’t wait to see his fight.” _

The announcer shuffles him into a dirty small room. A locker room in the loosest sense. Broken down lockers, hanging together with sheer determination and dirty benches coated with various fluids. 

Mammon wraps his knuckles silently, letting the sound of their cheers echo against the concrete walls. 

It’s where he belongs. Here the scum of Devildom lies, bleeding, dirty, and wounded. Fighting for a name he’ll only be called in the light of the canvas. Fighting for respect won with blood. 

It’s pathetic that he’s here. A demon lord, but if this is the only place he can get respect he’ll take it. He’ll take the fearful glances just before he pummels their faces into the mat with distorted skin and broken bones. 

He’ll wallow in it for as long as he can. For as long as they respect him. He pulls the wrap tight against his clenched fist. 

“The match is about to start!” A voice echoes into the empty space. Mammon huffs, tearing at the wrap with his teeth. 

“Alright, ’m ready.” 

A demon quickly pulls him along the dark corridor. Mammon walks quickly behind, steeling himself for the oncoming fight.

“And here to your right, we have one of the strongest! One of the deadliest in all Devildom! _Mammon_! Do any of these other demons even stand a chance? Tonight we’ll test that!

Word has spread about him debuting tonight, it seems. The already crowded floor has even more demons than when he entered, tucked tight against each other. More platforms drop from the ceilings, lined with demons watching, waiting. 

A wounded scent that hangs in the air. The smell of weak, pathetic demons.

Mammon climbs into the ring, scowl pressed against his lips. He leans back leisurely watching the arena. The demons cheer his name, ready for the screams of the damned. 

It doesn’t affect Mammon like his first night here. Now it only fuels him with a sickening joy. 

Another demon enters the ring. He towers over Mammon, smile pulling taunt on his lips.  The announcer readies himself before pulling the microphone up to his mouth. 

**“And FIGHT!”**

There’s a swift sound of movement, the shuffling of feet before the cracking of bones. 

Mammon resigns himself to the violence that he had filled himself with. It’s only then that a smile graces Mammon’s face. 

....

  
  


“Here.” The announcer repeats, motioning toward the bag of Grimm. Mammon wipes the sweat from his eyes. There is a semblance of dawn over the horizon. 

“You’re prize money. There were bets and while we do take some of the profit, winners take some too.” He shakes the bag, metallic clinks chime from within. “‘Bout 2,000 Grimm just for your time today, next night they’ll probably be more.” He eyes Mammon with an enticing smile, like a shark ready to bite.

Mammon sits and stares for a moment longer before shrugging on his leather jacket. “No.”

The announcer’s face drops unceremoniously. “Wh-wha- I- What do you mean no? You’re the avatar of greed aren’t you?” 

Mammon scoffs, tossing his bloody bandages into a nearby dumpster. “Don’t want it, that’s final. ‘M not here for money.”

He shuffles to the door, trying to escape from his clutches. “So what are you here for? Blood? Violence?” The fatty tissue of his zygoma presses up into his eyes at the grin. 

Mammon doesn’t know why he says it. Why he doesn’t just go home. “Respect.” 

The announcer’s smile grows wider, “I suppose I’ll see you around a lot more then. Hm?”

  
Mammon limps into the barren alleyway. The laughter follows him all the way home. 

* * *

“Lucifer, you have to do something! It’s only gotten worse!” Asmodeus wants to throw something, anything but he remains composed (as much as he can) in front of Lucifer. Who only glances up from his papers for a second before sighing. 

“I understand but I’m not going to follow him every night to see where he is going. I haven’t gotten wind of any illegal or scandalous schemes from him. How he spends his time without incident is none of my business.” But he worries. Oh, does he worry. 

“Did you see him this morning Lucifer? Or were you so involved in the newspaper that you didn’t see his BROKEN NOSE?” Satan roars. “You know how important his modeling is and that with wounds like that he’ll be fired!”

“I am perfectly capable of seeing, Satan but the facts speak for themself. Whatever he is doing is lessening his stealing.”

“That’s because he can barely move!” Leviathan chirps in. Lucifer can only look at his rally of brothers. It sparks something in his chest to see them so adamant for the health of their own yet...

“I underst-”

“No...I don’t know if you do Lucifer...He is our brother. Our own flesh and bone. Does it not hurt you to see him like this? To smell the wounds?” Beelzebub is quiet in his claim, hands wringing together in unease. 

Lucifer’s heart breaks at this but he stands firm. “I’ve already attempted to speak to him about this. He has offered me no information on his wounds and would prefer I stay out of his business. While I understand your plights he was adamant about me leaving this be. Unless he is breaking Devildom law or causing public problems then I am inclined to agree with him.”

“So, you’re only doing this for your own interest then? Or is it like when you locked me up? Because you didn’t want me to go against Diavolo. Does your own brother not matter unless it’s bothering him? How far up his ass are you?”

“Belphegor, mind your tongue.” 

Lucifer can barely muffle the pride rising through his veins. Anger wells inside him. How _dare_ he talk to him like that? 

“The situation has been handled and that is final!”

There is a sickening stillness that fills the room. His brothers can only look on in sadness. They slowly file out, mumbling their objections but none reach Lucifer’s ears. 

He groans, slumping forward in his chair with a groan. “Fuck.” He pulls out another bottle of demonus, ignoring the surfeit of empty ones. He fills a glass, swishing the liquid around. His own exhausted eyes stare back at him. 

“Oh, Mammon.” 

He tips his head back, drowning himself in the alcohol. 

* * *

You can barely make your way into the rundown building. Maybe you shouldn’t have come. It had been weeks since you had seen his face without bruises or limp in his step. You had to know if he was okay.

You had only managed to follow Mammon from a far off distance. Turning corners just as he was making it onto another block, hiding amidst the crowds of people and hiding behind (disgusting, may you add) dumpsters. You pull your black jacket closer, trying to blend in within the walls and shadows. 

It’s a shock Mammon was in an area like this. You’d usually find him in high-end bars and casinos (that he hadn’t been kicked out of yet). Something with items worthy of stealing, people with eloquence and money. This...this place had none of that. With the amount of people maybe he’d manage to pull off a few pickpockets before getting trapped within the waves of people. 

You press closer toward the edge of the crowd, standing tall on your toes watching for his white mop of hair. You drag your eyes across the crowd in lackadaisical circles, watching for his frosted hair. After inspecting the crowd multiple times you let out a defeated sigh. Despite Mammon’s theatrics, he was the most agile out of his brothers, you could give him that. 

_ Thwack! Wack! Thud!  _

There is a sickening squelch of skin as you finally look into the arena. The arena holds a new fighter from when you came in. You had tried to keep your eyes away from the display. Demons could be so, so cruel. The brothers love held the sweetest mirage, hiding the cruelty of their true nature. 

And-

_ Oh _ . 

_ Mammon- he-...oh. _

The light hits him oh so beautifully, in a way that the blood shines so sweetly. But even then it looks so...wrong against his skin. It frames his face (that looks oh-so lonely without his smile) in red highlights and dark shadows.  Even with the gore, you can’t help but think he’s so beautiful. He throws another fist at the opposing demon, dropping them to the floor. They sputter, blood dripping from their jowls. Mammon doesn’t pause. He continues his onslaught mercilessly. Punch after punch after punch. 

You can’t bring yourself to think that maybe this is the real him. This is the Mammon you never get to see. The sweet demon that holds you so tenderly against him, sniffling from the fear of horror movies. The sweet demon that kisses your forehead with the brightest cheeks, hidden with his growls and excuses. Your angel. Your treasure that shines oh-so brightly under the Devildom moon. 

_ This is who he really is.  _

You watch in agonizing pain. Heart split open at the horrors. You watch until the fight is over and the announcer stalks forward, raising Mammon’s hand high. He smiles -no, he smirks, watching the crowd scream his name. He bathes in the afterglow and it looks so unlike him. 

This isn’t your first man. 

He stands, as though upon a throne of blood. A man upon men, a king among peasants. You can’t help but think his smile is so similar to Lucifer’s. Sadistic and perverse. 

His eyes scan the swell of demons, smirk widening until-

_ Oh shit. _

His eyes met yours and the smirk drops from his lips. And suddenly there is a fear in his eyes that you have never seen before. Not when Lucifer threatens him, not when he fails a test. It is pure, unadulterated fear. 

You scramble away from the light of the ring, attempting to hide within the shadows. There is a shuffle of movement, murmurs of demons as they watch you glide past.  _ Shit.  _ You hadn’t meant to get caught, you just wanted to know he was alright. Day after day and the bruises never went away, you were worried. How could you not be?

The night air greets you with a bitter caress, folding itself within your layers and kisses your skin. The sky is colored an early morning gradient, very different from the nightly shades of deep azures and lavenders. 

The terror of being caught drags you further and further into the maze of alleyways. Lost within the myriad of passages and blank walls. The faint call of your name surrounding the clatter of trash bins spurs you further. 

It isn’t until he descends in front of you, a mirror of fear, that you stop. 

“Please, please wait. Just-” He hiccups. “-just wait. Where are they? I couldn’t see them and then ya ran and I-”

You press against the brick wall, folding in on yourself. “W-what?”

“Lucifer and the others? I...there were so many demons and I couldn’t see ‘em once ya left.” He runs his hands through his hair, streaks of red meld into the white wisps. 

“I-No?” You move towards him. You rest a hand on his crimson one. “Mammon, I came here alone. I was worried and I-”

“Alone? Alone! You have no idea ‘ow dangerous that was! The amount of feral demons there-” He paces, panic sinking into his features. “Why would ya-”

“Feral? Mammon…” He holds onto your words with tight fists and furrowed brows. “Mammon, you were there too…” 

It’s as if the pain of all three realms, of Lucifer’s words, of his wounds, finally crash down on him. 

“I..” He slides down against a wall. “Fuck. Ya weren’t ever supposed to find out. I- Out of all of ‘em I never wanted ya to find out.” Tears drip down his face in soft waterfalls. 

The juxtaposition of him now- soft and fearful, tears welling in his chest- compared to the battle-hardened demon from only moments before causes your heart to ache.

You sit against the wall, slightly pressed against him. 

“I never wanted ya to see me that way...I never...I never wanted to  _ be _ like that.” You press your fingers into his scalp, gently massaging his stress away. You try to ignore the blood. 

“Why didn’t you just tell us?” 

He laughs, broken and coarse. “Tell ya? Lucifer would ‘ave killed me! That’s an illegal fighting ring!” 

You hum, fingers pressed lower now, against his collar bone. 

“I know. I know I shouldn’t ‘ave even gone there, I should have ‘ever been in the ring but…” 

You wait, letting the dawn air fill in the spaces between you. 

“I just  _ couldn’t  _ do it anymore. I just couldn’t.” He sounds so broken, fragmented mumbles and sniffles cut through his words. 

“Couldn’t do what?”

“Let ‘em keep...doing that. Let ‘em keep stringing me up for things I didn’t do. I know I’m suspicious! I know I’m a thief, the scumbag brother, the pathetic one but...but sometimes it gets too much. It...it wells up in my chest and it hurts. It burns and I just  _ can’t _ .” 

“Mammon…” 

“No!” He shuffles away from you. “Don’t ‘Mammon’ me! I know ya’ think the same! You...you ‘ave to! I see how ya look at me when he strings me up! I’m not that stupid! Ya believe ‘em too and I ‘now I deserve it and I ‘now it’s my fault but-” Tears pour from his eyes, lips curled in an ugly grimace. “But it fucking ‘urts sometimes. It hurts so much I think I might die and- and” 

You turn, pressing a soft kiss to his bruised chin. “Mammon, I could never think of you like that. I-yeah, sometimes I do think you actually do that stuff but...but that doesn’t make you any less to me. You’re my first, remember? And- and I will take your side more. I will. I’ll defend you and I’ll stick up for you when they talk down to you and accuse you because you don’t deserve that. You don’t. You deserve love and support and appreciation. No one else tucks me into bed at night, no one else makes me laugh like you do. You’re not scum. You can’t be because you’re the best thing that has happened to me down here.” Holding his bruised face in your hands, thumb rubbing against his darkened cheek. You kiss away his tears, he giggles at the brush of your lips before grumbling and bracing himself. 

He shucks off his leather jacket and gently wraps it around you. He turns, wiping the tears from his eyes once more.

  
  
“Come on, we can’t ‘ave Lucifer catchin’ us.” 

You hum, pressing against his side. “Of course, Mammon.”

…

He only manages to the floor beside the fireplace before his legs give out on him. He hisses as he leans back into the fur of the rug. 

“Ah, just leave me here. I’ll catch up to you later.” He throws a hand upwards, waving you away with dismal abandon. You scoff as you make your way towards the cupboards, pulling out the first aid kit, rag, and water bottle. 

You laugh at how Mammon moves to chase after you. He blushes once he realizes you’ve never left. 

“Shirt.” You murmur, wetting the rag with water. He groans, arching his back so as to not aggravate the bruises. “You’re lucky Lucifer loves all black, anything other than red and we’d have a you-shaped stain on this rug right about now.”

Mammon moans when you press the wet towel to the biggest cut. “That never stops him from getting angry before.” 

You laugh placing the gaze firm against his side. “Up.” 

He arches his hips another groan ripped from his throat. “Ya know it’ll all just heal by tomorrow.”

“I know...but it still hurts me to see you like this. Before I couldn’t help but worry. I thought you were just out getting into fights.” 

He laughs hoarsely, “I  _ was  _ out getting into fights.” 

You tap a bruise in retaliation, “I know! Just…”

“What? Ya thought I lost? Me? The Great Mammon?” 

You shake your head ‘no’ despite the obvious truth. No one comes home looking like he does and wins. 

“Ya did, didn’t ya!” He props himself up on his elbows. 

“Ah, maybe! It’s not my fault that you get hit so much.” 

“My fault?!”

You drag the rag further down his chest into the fuzz of his happy trail. Snowy white hairs disappearing underneath his jeans. You cough, finishing on the open gashes and applying ointment to the bruises. He lays there, lazily following your demands to move this way and that. Your banter blends with the cracks and snaps of the burning wood. 

You watch his chest rise and fall in soft, shallow movements. His copper skin, the glow ablaze in the glow of the hearth. Despite the bruises, he looks beautiful in the light. Your first man. You press a gentle kiss to the arch of his brow before resting your head in his arms. 

He shuffles in his sleep, arms finding their way to your hips. 

You fall asleep to the sound of his breathing and the crackle of flame. 

...

  
  


“...Mammon?”

The cold air drifts in through the fireplace, the fire having long gone out. 

“Hmm…” 

“Oh, my dear brother...What have you done?” Cold hands press against his face, igniting the flame of pain in his bruises. 

“Oh! Aye, can’t you see I’m sleepin’! Keep ya hands to ya damn self.” He’s up in a moment, slapping the hands away. There’s a soft thud of you hitting the ground in his wake. 

There's a moment of blurriness before he makes out his brother’s sitting on the couches before him wrought with worry. 

Asmo falls to his knees before him, his finger flit to the area below his eye. He rubs his thumb across the swollen skin. Mammon hisses and attempts to pull away, Asmodeus reels him back in checking the gash on his cheek. 

“What have you done? Mammon? Mammon, you’re destroying yourself.”

His fingers trail to his chest, burdened with gauze and wrappings. Blood is speckled across the different injuries, awoken from his movements. 

Beelzebub embraces him before following Asmodeus’s movements. “Why? Why are you doing this? Don’t you see we love you? Please tell us what’s going on. Please.” 

Mammon’s eyebrows furrow at his words. Love? He pushes back their assault and struggles to a standing position. The pull of his muscles ache and he cries out. There is a series of yells and hands holding him up. 

“Stop it!” This isn’t how they're supposed to react. When he’s punished they can only manage laughter and taunts but now? He slaps their hands away. "Oi! Get away from me! I'm perfectly fine!”

They look at him with such pity. As if he is a fragile piece of glass, already broken and ready to be placed together by their hands. No, he doesn’t need them, not for this. He needed them centuries ago when he cried and begged for their love. It’s far too late for that now. 

“I said I’m fine!” 

He scans their faces and alert posture. It’s only then that he notices Lucifer. 

Lucifer, the ever stoic vision of pride has a look of horror. His eyebrows press upward, mouth subdued. Though his eyes are what hurts Mammon the most. His eyes are a reflection of the war. The moment he truly knew they would lose. Horror and agony knitted into the darkest parts of his irises. 

_ No. _

No, he doesn’t get to do that. He doesn’t get to guilt Mammon over the one outlet he has. The one vent for his emotions and Lucifer looks like  _ that.  _ Mammon can feel the anger growing. Satan watches his gaze, trailing it to Lucifer. His brows crease in confusion. 

He doesn’t give them another second, running to his room. They call after him exasperated. Mammon locks the door before hiding away in his bathroom. 

It’s then that he finally sees himself in the mirror. His left eye is swollen and black, melding into his tan skin. A gash travels across his cheek, the bandage barely covers it. Though still, the blood has already filled the absorbent pad. His torso is wrapped tightly with bandage after bandage yet still the black and blue find their way onto his skin. 

He looks terrible. Mammon smiles. He looks terrible but that’s just it. The bruises are trophies to show his worth. Grandiose plaques of respect. It was his price to pay. If it only took the last remains of his self-worth for some semblance of love (despite how corrupt and evil) then he’d pay whatever way he could. 

A knock sounds from his door. “Mammon?”

He steps from the bathroom and presses up against the door. He thinks just maybe you could feel him there. 

“They worry for you just like I do, ya know? They want to know you’re alright. I...I won’t tell them what happened last night. Not until you're ready but please...please don’t let this pain kill you.”

An alarm sounds somewhere within the breadth of his room. School is moments away.

“I won’t tell but I won’t let you hurt alone anymore. I’ll be there for you, whether you like it or not.” 

He can’t help but laugh, such a determined human. His human. 

“I’m...I’m gonna go get ready now...but remember, you’re walking me to school today. No if ands or buts” 

“No if ands or buts.” He repeats. 

His alarm continues, breaking through the comfort of the moment. Mammon slips into the shower and once more lets the heat of the water devour him.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we have the first actual POV of MC/the reader! I've said that they don't have a large part in this fic compared to the brothers and at times I contemplated having part of MCs point of view at all but in the end I did (I needed some comfort in between Mammon's angst). I didn't want to give him no support system and single him out against his brother. In the Devilgram (spoilers) "One to many insults" none of them stand up for Mammon when they begin their teasing and I wanted to have someone for Mammon to actually fight for and actively want to make proud outside of Lucifer. 
> 
> I would love to hear what y'all think! What do you think the next chapter is going to be about? What do you think about MCs POV? I'd love to hear about it! :) 
> 
> ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molten gold runs through your veins, filling your lungs. His torment mirrors over you in subtle buzzes. You can only think how painful it must be for him.
> 
> “Get up, Mammon. Please get up.”
> 
> The demon hits and hits until the boos turn into cheers. The brothers lower their eyes. It’s all they can do.
> 
> You can’t help the tears that follow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: graphic violence!
> 
> I know it's been an overarching theme here but please watch out for yourselves.

The soft sound of jingling sounds throughout the alleyway. 

“Asmo...did you  _ have  _ to dress up?” Leviathan sighs. 

“Uh! Yes, we have no clue where Mammon goes and I for one would like to make a good first impression!” No one mentions how he hides his fears beneath clothing and makeup.

“Quiet.” Lucifer mumbles. He’s already regretting bringing them out here in the first place. As if he had a choice. 

Maybe he could have planned another night where he wouldn’t be plagued by their endless chatter. 

Beel’s stomach echos against the walls, “‘M sorry. I get hungry when I’m anxious…” 

Yeah, he definitely should have gone alone. There was no getting rid of them now. 

They follow the soft sound of your conversation with Mammon. Murmurings of “Remember to keep your hands up this time!” and “That shifty announcer doesn’t let any demons near you, right? You comfortable on the bench?”. To think such a sweet and obedient human would keep such a thing secret. Though he supposes you’re always there to pick up the pieces between him and his brothers. 

There is the loud scrape of metal on metal as doors open, muffled cheering and the conversation stops.

“You got this Mammon. I believe in you.” Believe in what? Why aren’t you telling him that this is a bad idea? Why aren’t you trying to drag him away? 

They wait at the corner, allowing time to distance them from being caught. They slip through the shadows once the muffled voice of an announcer fills the air and the cheering grows louder. 

The building is run down and falling apart. Why would Mammon come to a place like this? Surely, there is no wealth to be found here.

“Uh...Lucifer are you sure we should be here?” Leviathan mutters glancing at the state of the building. He’s sure there must be some parts of the roof caved in. 

Lucifer leaves no room for arguments. “Mammon’s in there. We have no choice.” 

He slides the door open, light leaking into the dark alleyway. 

Lucifer's heart breaks at what he sees. 

* * *

You jump to your feet, screaming, “Throw him back against the ropes! You got this Mammon!” 

The fight has migrated to the edge of the ring. The demon is one of the taller ones from the previous fights. He lears over Mammon with a pessimistic smile. It doesn’t fit right with his eyes (open and unblinking). His arms hand down further than they should, matching his posture. Mammon looks so small against his frame. 

He throws his arm out, using it as a battering ram and it slams Mammon to the side. Mammon stumbles sideways before sliding between the gap in his legs and throws a few punches into the small of his back. 

The demon lets out a scream before swinging backward, Mammon ducks just in time. 

“is that-”

“Oh my-” 

You turn, cautious of the fight when you see it. The brothers enter the large doorway, chins held high and confidence in their presence. 

_ Oh shit.  _

You turn back to Mammon, caught in an onslaught of punches. There is no way you’ll be getting his attention. Not like you should.

_ Shit shit shit shit. _

* * *

Mammon circles the ring, sizing up his new opponent. As time went on bigger and stronger challengers have come and gone. This demon surely rivals them all in size. 

He wipes the sweat from his brow before he evades another mass of punches and swipes. He collects himself against the ropes. 

His throat is burning, skin wet with sweat. 

This is the best fight he’s had in ages. He smiles, going to catch your eyes. 

Here you’d see how strong he is. How powerful and respected. When he finally sees you against the bench he frowns upon seeing your gaze elsewhere. He follows your line of sight until-

_ Fuck _ .

Mammon’s eyes are ablaze, the golden sheen consumes his irises and he drops his hands.

Lucifer doesn’t say anything as he stands, taller than anyone in the room. His aura is enough to ward the demons away but he doesn’t spread his wings. He doesn’t want to show the officials of the 7 new demon brothers in their stead. Yet still, his stance is enough. Gossip slowly fills the arena, traveling with the breeze and reaching among the people. 

You can only glance at him, an apology written in your features. You glance at the brother’s again only in time to see the horrid concern and shock that shreds through them. 

_ THWACK! _

When you turn it’s only in time to see Mammon hit the mat, blood spraying the canvas. “Mammon!” You stumble forward, fear freezing your muscles. Lucifer curls a tight hand on your shoulder, a grimace on his face. He shakes his head no and only closes his eyes. There was only one way that this would end, you both knew it. 

The demon laughs, kicking Mammon as the cheers grow louder. You feel the sickness rising in your throat. Mammon, crunched inward can only cough, blood trailing from his lips. The cheers resolve into taunts. And you can do nothing to help him. You feel the faint brush of your pact. Molten gold runs through your veins, filling your lungs. His torment mirrors over you in subtle buzzes. You can only think how painful it must be for him.

The demon seizes his hair, fingers pressing into his skull, and pulls him up. Mammon...looks, so broken, so wrong. His watery eyes watch you as he lets himself be thrown. He lets the demon beat him. He doesn’t fight back. You can feel his despair, his loathing, his abhor. 

“Get up, Mammon. Please get up.”

The fighting doesn’t stop. Or rather the beating doesn’t. The demon hits and hits until the boos turn into cheers. The brothers lower their eyes. It’s all they can do. 

**“Look at him.”**

They go from disgust to confusion. The question hangs in the air. 

“You did this to him. You all did. Watch.” The heat from the words burns, they flinch before heeding your words. 

_ Wack! Thump! Thump! Thwack! _

Blood coats the floor, enough to kill a human but he doesn’t stop. The bastard hits until he can feel the disinterest grow heavy. It’s only then that he takes Mammon up in his arms and brings his back down across his knee. A loud crack resonates yet coated with cheers you can barely hear it. 

You can’t help the tears that follow. 

When he finally kicks Mammon’s body off the ring the announcer has already begun congratulating the winner. You scramble to the base of the ring, pushing up against the plethora of demons until you reach him. 

You can’t stop the savage scream you let out at his crippled body. The demons surrounding him laugh, the nefarious things. You press forward, pushing the crowd away. 

“Mammon! Mammon!” 

He scarcely lifts his head, wincing as he brings his arms up underneath himself. “Ahh, f-fuck.” Throwing yourself to your knees you brush your fingers against his back, checking the damage. “Aaaaa!” You pull back at his scream. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry!” You wrap your arms tightly around his middle (he cries out, a broken thing). 

“No...No!” He pushes away from you. Without your grip, he falls, crushing his shoulder against the concrete, and screams. “Just...just wa-Ah!- wait outside.” 

You want to argue. You want to argue that he doesn’t have to do this alone but you know that isn’t true. Their eyes are wary. Waiting, watching your every movement. 

Mammon has lost and now he must accept it with dignity. 

You glance back at him, stealing one last glance at the fragmented pieces of your first man, and then turn to walk out the door.

Lucifer, along with his brothers, greet you outside. They hold their guilt openly, silent tears streaming down their faces. All but Lucifer. Who watches unbothered, undisturbed at having to see his brother's fate. How could he?

The soft crunch of gravel signals Mammon’s entrance. Then he finally lets you touch him, hold him. You curl your arms around him as lightly as you can but he doesn’t hug back. His gaze matches Lucifer’s. Cold and unforgiving. You press a kiss against his cheek before falling in line behind him, watching the scene unfold before you. 

* * *

  
  


How stupid was Mammon truly? To think that Lucifer would never find out. How pitiful to hold such a hope amongst the sick reality of this realm. His secrets were never his to keep but rather another ring on his chains to Lucifer. 

It didn’t stop the pain. The respect that he so meticulously built had shattered in a single moment. He couldn’t even have this, this one moment, this one outlet for himself. 

You had watched him, his brothers had watched him as he let himself get pummeled.  _ Pathetic _ . He couldn’t even get one last show of strength. One last moment to stand within the sunlight. 

The cold wind stings against injuries, delving into the flesh. He hisses at the feeling. It isn’t until you cradle him in your arms, so carefully. Pressing a gentle kiss to his chin before retreating behind him. 

“Mammon.” 

He doesn’t say anything. He’s in the wrong, he’s known since the beginning that it would come down to this. It always was. So now he should go quietly, accept his face. His blood boils in his veins. 

“You have broken Devildom law. Whilst I won’t arrest you this will be reported to Diavolo and punished proportionately. As a Demon Lord, your actions speak louder than that of the common devil. Since you seem to have no care for these ideals it seems higher power must be placed into effect. Diav-”

Mammon tries, he really does but **how dare he?** How dare Lucifer treat this so formally? His own brother is beat to heaven and back before him and this is all he can say? All he can do is fix his collar, stand straighter, and look on? He doesn’t address the true issue. The true pains that plague them. He never does. But bullshit. Bull- _ fucking _ -shit. If this is how he is going down, if this is the end to it all then Mammon will go down swinging. 

“No.” 

Silence. 

“ _ What _ did you say to me?”

“ I said no Lucifer. I won’t take ya overly proud bullshit anymore. ’m done!” Undeterred by the pain Mammon revels in his demon form. The injuries are scarcely healed having been spread out over his entire body. He spits the built-up of blood to the side before taking a staggering step forward. 

“How dar-!”

Mammon spreads his wings out in a pathetic attempt at intimidation. The pain flares.    
  


“H-hey guys why don’t we just go home and-” Asmo tries.

“No! I am done with ya hypocritical punishments!” Mammon barks back. “Do ya know why I’m here?”

They don’t answer. Of course, they don’t. 

“I’m ‘ere because at least I get a  _ shred  _ of respect. I might ‘ave to fight for it but at least they respect me. They don’t laugh at my emotions, they don’t bully me for my sin, they recognize my strength and respect it!” With a flap of his wings, he hovers over the ground. He lets the feeling of magic overtake him, surge through his wings, and crackling through his horns. “They may not be family but at least they cheer me on! None of y’all even fucking care about me!” His voice cracks.

There is a crack in Lucifer’s stone face as his own wings break through. 

“Ya broke your promise Lucifer. Ya broke it. Ya told us you’d protect us.” He can’t stop the tears. Why now? “But ya haven’t. Ya haven’t for a long time.” 

Mammon wastes no time in attacking. He swoops down, claws drawn. They snag against Lucifer’s overcoat, pulling across his forearms. Blood spurs forth. 

“Mammon! Stop this nonsense right now!” 

“No!” Mammon screams, he can’t help but feel like a brat. As if he’s just throwing a fit. But he doesn’t let up on his attack and dives again, ready for Lucifer’s strike. Lucifer only dodges, letting Mammon hit the dirt. 

“Fight back, coward!” He attacks Lucifer's pride. He needs to fight back! He needs him to. Mammon has spent so long fighting. Fighting his feelings, fighting his greed that he needs Lucifer to fight back. Is he not even a threat to him? Is he that pathetic to him? Does Lucifer even care? Does he not want to cause a scene? 

He needs to fight back. He needs Lucifer to care for him this once. 

“No, Mammon.”

The tears are falling faster now. It clouds Mammon’s vision but still, he doesn’t stop. He dives, hits and kicks. Lucifer never hits back. He just takes it. He dodges and moves and when he can’t he accepts Mammon’s onslaught with pride. 

How can he be prideful at a time like this? 

Mammon flies higher, gathering speed.

“Mammon, please. Just stop! Let’s go home!”

“Mam! Please! We love you!”

Mammon ignores them. He focuses on Lucifer. He looks up at him with such sad eyes. Mammon spreads his wings wide before he begins his descent. The air presses against his face. For a second he can only think of the fall. The moment where heaven was lit ablaze, fire falling from the sky. The bright sky wrought with colors. The wind whipping around him, enclosing him as he fell. 

He closes his eyes for just a moment. Just a blink but it’s enough. Lucifer evades and Mammon hits the floor. 

There is a loud crack and a scream. He rolls, coming to a stop against the walls. Another crack.    
  


“Mammon!” Various cries call out to him, they mingle and merge. He barely can tell what’s happening. 

He stumbles to his feet, arms swaying. He can feel his wings protruding at odd angles and his leg won’t move with his other. 

“Mammon...please.” Lucifer finally speaks. 

Mammon continues on, dragging his limp leg behind him. The pain presses into him. Hollowing him out. Mammon can’t differentiate the concussion from the blur of his tears. He feels so...lifeless. So done but he doesn’t let the feeling contain his rage. This is all he has left.

He raises his arms in a defensive position. 

“Mammon.”

He throws a punch. The muscles in his shoulder tear and burn. He moves forward in a stuttering walk, slamming his fist into Lucifer’s chest. 

He must look so pathetic right now. Crying as his body gives out on him. How low has he fallen? 

  
Lucifer raises a hand to the back of his head and presses him into a hug. “Shh.” 

Mammon struggles, moving against his caged arms. No! He wants to fight! He wants to win! He wants to save Lilith! He wants to be respected!

_ He just wants to be loved.  _

Lucifer mumbles a few words as the swirl of magic surrounds him. It shackles him in sleep. He moves away, fist pushing against his hands. 

“N-no! Sto-” He coughs, feeling the wetness of blood on his lips. “Stop!”

He falls asleep listening to Lucifer’s soft shushes and his brother’s tears. 

  
He can only imagine the punishment this time.    


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE FINAL FIGHT IS OVER!! 
> 
> So a few of the comments were right, we did get our final fight here. There is so much trauma and only so much Mammon's heart can take. 
> 
> We still got a chapter or two left! I just have to write it 😅 (the hardest part). But now that most of the violence is out of the way we need some fluff and family love to finish it off!
> 
> Hope y'all enjoy!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mammon, as he always has, was the one to bring him back from the brink. He placed Lucifer back onto his pedestal and dusted him off. He showed him he was the “best older brother we could ask for ya goof”.
> 
> And Lucifer betrayed that.
> 
> Instead, he imbued fear and insecurities into Mammon's head. Enough that he took not only Lucifer’s pain but others.
> 
> How could they still call Lucifer their big brother?

Pride is such a fickle thing. 

Lucifer has always been a perfectionist. From the shine of his shoes to the work he did with Diavolo. The need for perfection was sewn within the fibers of his very being. It plagued him throughout his days. The need to be better, to be the ideal older brother. 

It wriggles its way into his life despite the bags under his eyes and the wrinkles on his face. 

When he fell and the feelings of utter shame struck through him he thought he’d die. It settled in his chest, laying waste to his insides. How was he supposed to look at his brothers now? 

It was his choice to fight. His decision to let Lilith be so free as to love. His failure. 

How could they still look at him?

_ “I’m ‘ere because at least I get a shred of respect. I might ‘ave to fight for it but at least they respect me. They don’t laugh at my emotions, they don’t bully me for my sin, they recognize my strength and respect it! They may not be family but at least they cheer me on! None of y’all even fucking care about me!” _ Mammon cries out, wings ripping out from his back. He flaps his wings once, twice before rising from the ground. Lucifer could barely hold in the choke of fear. 

Mammon, as he always has, was the one to bring him back from the brink. He had comforted and built him back up again. Piece by piece. He placed Lucifer back onto his pedestal and dusted him off. He showed him he was the “best older brother we could ask for ya goof”. And that he never stopped being that to them. Not even for a second. 

And Lucifer betrayed that. He betrayed the love and family that he instilled in his brothers. With lashes and bruises, he’d torn apart the pride that Mammon held for himself. Lucifer had propagandized a pride that he was never able to feel into Mammon. Every theft, every lie was a disappointment. 

Lucifer never told him why. He never mentioned that he believed in Mammon. That he knew out of all of them he held the most of heaven within his heart. That he fell with such grace and power that Lucifer would have been proud whatever path he took. 

Instead, he imbued fear and insecurities into his head. Enough that he took not only Lucifer’s pain but others. He thought he deserved it. 

How could they call Lucifer their big brother?

_ “Ya broke your promise Lucifer. Ya broke it. Ya told us you’d protect us. But ya haven’t. Ya haven’t for a long time.”  _

Lucifer could feel the shame creeping into his chest. Cold tendrils wrapped around his throat. He was choking. 

He wants to say something. Anything. He wants to take his brother into his arms and coddle him. Kiss the crown of his head and cry apologizes into his hairline. He pushed him too far, for so long. How could he have let his brother feel this way? How many nights did he cry? How many punishments weren’t justified? His heartaches. It yearns to reach out to Mammon. The one who stood by him through it all. The one who comforted him when he thought there was no hope. No reason to go on. And to think, he had made Mammon feel this way. 

He reaches out, an apology on his lips. Though, the vulnerability of it all makes him hesitate. What about the punishments that were justified? The hearts of those he stole from? Their meaning? What about them? What about him? He can feel the coils of his pledge tugging at his heartstrings. It weighs his thoughts down with a heavy hand. What would Diavolo think? 

But…

“Mammon! Stop this nonsense right now!” He’s already wounded as it is. A concussion? Brain damage? Internal bleeding? Lucifer’s mind runs through all the possibilities. To his beaten body, singed from the fall. To his unconscious face fresh with tears. His wings burned and the golden jewelry melted into his flesh. 

Mammon attacks. And attacks and attacks. 

Lucifer can only see a broken boy of his making. 

His broken bones should be Lucifer’s to bear. His heart heavy and weighed should be his to raise up. You had been right. 

He did this to Mammon. 

_ “Fight back, coward!” _

All Lucifer can think of is the sweet boy who approached him in the celestial realm. Begged to Lucifer to show him the reigns. Who flew by his side, smile on his face as he let the air ruffle his hair. 

“No, Mammon.” How could he fight back? How could he hurt the brother he loved so dearly even more?

He can see the shame in his eyes. The eyes that used to look up at him with such adoration. The little angel that gave and gave. 

“Mammon...please.”

He didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want to lose another member of his family. Oh Father, please not again. Please don’t let his sins burn another he cared for. He’d take it on, he’d take every shred of Mammon’s pain to see him smile again. 

He watches in mock horror as Mammon dives. He dodges, it’s all he can do. 

_ CRACK _

The scream doesn’t escape from Lucifer’s throat. His pride holds his emotions hostage, his throat held tightly as collateral. 

He wants to scream, he wants to cry. He wants to hold his brother. 

But Pride is a fickle thing. 

Mammon stands. He is broken. Lucifer has  _ broken _ him. 

He hits and slaps weakly at Lucifer. 

Lucifer wraps his arms around him. Mammon lets out a gurgled scream.

_ “N-no! Sto-Stop!” _

Lucifer feels the blood against his chest. He whispers sweet lullabies to Mammon, his favorites. Mammon slinks in his arms. He struggles until the last moment. Lucifer is proud of him for fighting. For trying even though he knew the fight was useless. 

Lucifer is and always has been proud of his brother. 

Mammon lies limp in his arms. 

“It-it’s time...it’s to go home Mam…” 

It had been ages since he called Mammon that. The moments in the celestial fields roll back to him. Mammon frolicking through the flowers, roses, and lilies in hand. When he’d tell him those exact words back then he’d only smile and laugh before running off. Setting a poorly made flower crown on his head as a trophy when caught. 

Anger is the only thing that lies in his features now. Downturned lips and furrowed eyebrows. 

Lucifer turns. 

He can see the looks his brothers give him. Anger, sadness, knowing. 

He walks on, carrying Mammon in his arms like he would a child. Like he did when they were younger. His brothers follow silently. Lucifer doesn’t look at you. He can’t. 

They walk onward in the dead of night. The celestial realm's light has never looked so far. 

In the silence of the dark Lucifer lets his tears slip. He cries and cries. Void of sniffles and blubbering as pride is a fickle thing and Lucifer almost wishes he’d never felt it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only 3 days late (though it was ready even before that) on updating. I only have one more update but it's gonna take me a minute. I injured my hand pretty bad and typing hurts tremendously. 
> 
> Anyway! What do you guys think! I wasn't sure if I wanted to have this scene play from Lucifer's point of view but I think that it was integral to the story. Lucifer, as his brothers also has a sin and it muffles his love and vulnerabilities for his brothers. 
> 
> I like the idea that each of the brothers have to fight through their sins one way or another. And for Lucifer it's a constant choking feeling from his sin that muffles his true voice. He put himself on this pedestal, this far away ideal of perfection that he hasn't allowed himself to love even without his sin. And while he hates it, it is still something of a punishment that he placed upon himself (may I even say, trauma from lilith?). Love to hear what you guys think 'bout this!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sight of their home doesn’t warm his heart as it usually does. It towers over him, a court for his jurors. 
> 
> He enters the living room, scouts the area before landing on the long, plush couch. He lies Mammon’s limp body against the velvet.
> 
> He swallows down his fear and pride. They stick to his throat and choke his words down.
> 
> The nights he had left him hanging from the rafters, when his screams echoed through the hallways echo in his ears.
> 
> They hadn’t listened. He hadn’t listened. 
> 
> And now Mammon wasn’t talking at all. 
> 
> Lucifer walks closer to Mammon’s body and kneels.
> 
> He can hear the gasps of appall and horror. Lucifer bowing before Father...after all that has happened.
> 
> The sound of sizzling grows louder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some gorey description, mentions of prayer/blasphemy but otherwise fine!

Lucifer had hoped he’d never have to do this again. Never have to hold a member of his family, their lifeless body in his hands. He’s hoped, prayed this would never happen. Though he supposes prayers never come true for demons. 

He walks through the alleyway, twists, and turns. He ignores the stares. The looks he knows he must be getting from his brothers. Instead, he watches Mammon’s face. The bruised and pulposus skin. He wishes he could take the pain away in a single swift moment. Though he knows the combination of magic and the chaos within Mammon will only cause more pain. 

The sight of their home doesn’t warm his heart as it usually does. It towers over him, a court for his jurors. 

Beelzebub shuffles to open the door, a despairing look shroud on his face. 

They walk in line, one behind the other. Lambs to the slaughter of their own shame. The house is cold. The sour Devildom air leaks in through cracks in the foundation. Lucifer almost laughs at how symbolic it all feels. 

He enters the living room, scouts the area before landing on the long, plush couch. He crouches down, lying Mammon’s limp body against the velvet. It hurts to look at him… to know this is of his own doing. 

_How p_ _athetic._

He watches Mammon for a moment, as Satan sets a new fire. The warmth spreads through the room and yet Mammon’s body is still cold. Lucifer brushes the hair out of his eyes. His brother. His lovely younger brother. 

That he hurt. 

He stands once more, squaring his shoulders before facing his family. Your eyes look at him, tearful. His own brother’s, angry and sorrowful. Lucifer has never had problems with public speaking before but now the anxiety swarms him. 

He swallows down his fear and pride. They stick to his throat and choke his words down. 

“You all...were...right.” He stumbles out. He doesn’t cry, though the tears fester in his chest in a painful froth. He stands firm, fist clenched (it’s all he can do). “I should’ve tried harder. I should have trusted him. I-...” 

_I should have loved him properly._

_I should have told him how much he meant to me._ ** _To us._ **

Yet, again, the words get stuck in his chest. 

He looks at his brothers. It’s as if their eyes are glowering down at him. 

Maybe now is when they finally realize, Lucifer muses. Now they finally see that he’s been flying by the seat of his pants since that day. Since Lilith fell in love, since she died he never knew what he was doing. He was leading them into the darkness with nothing but his own pride. Maybe now they will realize how he damned them. 

“I...you weren’t the only one Lucifer…” Asmodeus is the first to meet his eyes. “We...I treated him terribly.” 

Satan drops a gentle hand on Asmodeus’s shoulder. “We treated him as a punching bag for our emotions...I never considered how he felt....” 

“I said I’d protect you all…” Beelzebub mumbles, holding his hand to his chest. Lucifer can see how his nails dig into the flesh. “But I failed him. I failed Mammon.” 

_He,_ Lucifer contemplates _, was supposed to protect them._

Belphegor rests his head against his bicep. “We all did Beel...Not just Lucifer.” He doesn’t look at Lucifer, rather his shoes as he says it. Lucifer knows it’s the closest thing he’ll get to an apology. 

You watch from afar, listening to their acknowledgments. It’s not your place to say anything here. Now it’s up to them and Mammon. 

“We did gang up on him a bit too much...I accused him a bit too much. I’m a terrible brother, I don’t know how I didn’t see it before.” Levi cries into his hands. 

Lucifer ruffles a hand through his hair. “We all were Levi. We never saw how much our words hurt him. We never gave him a chance to tell us.” 

The nights he had left him hanging from the rafters, when his screams echoed through the hallways. They hadn’t listened. He hadn’t listened. 

And now Mammon wasn’t talking at all. 

There was no use in pitying themselves now. Now they had to act and apologize. 

Lucifer walks closer to Mammon’s body and kneels. 

It’s been so long since he’s done this, he finds himself at a loss for words until they come quickly pouring out of him. He wonders, for a moment, how the words were still fixed so deeply inside him. 

“Dear Father..” He curls his hands together. The burn begins with low flames in his chest. He stifles his scream into the prayer. 

“Who art in heaven...I know I am the last person you want to hear but I beg of thee. I beg that you heal Mammon and show him the love that he believes is lost.” 

He can hear the gasps of appall and horror. Lucifer bowing before Father...after all that has happened. Before the one who prosecuted Lilith… 

Belphegor feels a rage boil in his chest. How could he ever pray to _Father_ when he had cast them out. Favored law over his own children. Though his rage simmers when he once again looks at Mammon’s body. He remembered the nights’ Mammon held him tight and kissed his forehead. When he’d tell Belphegor story after story of Lilith and the fun that they’d have. Times that had been clouded for him with a darkening resentment. Mammon helped him through it. Belphegor kneels. He’d do anything for his family. 

“I pray that-” He can feel his throat closing up and the blisters burn into his skin. “I p-pray that you favor Mammon’s soul.” 

Asmodeus knows how this ends. Demons don’t get to have such holy moments without heavenly punishment. He knows his body will be wrought with blisters and bloodied but- Mammon is far worse. Asmo knows his words have done this. His complaints and teasing are what ruined him...Now he can only hope these words bring him back. He paid for their sins and Asmodeus is now ready to atone. He will make sure Father hears his cries. 

There is the soft thud of his brothers dropping into a prayer behind him. The sound of sizzling grows louder, it almost overcomes the prayer itself but they don’t let it. They speak louder and stronger. They cry into the cold and darkened realm hoping the realm above will hear them. 

Beelzebub doesn’t give a second thought before he kneels. He speaks the prayer with every bit of his damned soul and it burns. It burns so, so bad but he speaks the words that have engraved themselves in his skin. In his heart and soul. He prays that Father remembers Mammon for who he is inside. He doesn’t think of Lilith. Or The War. He thinks of the being who had been there for him time after time. The brother who despite his greed would give and give. He prays that is who Father remembers. 

“That you give him the confidence and heart he deserves. Turn his sadness to joy and pain into comfort.” 

Leviathan never really thought they’d be here again. Praying together for a Father that didn’t believe in them. For the being that had built him to loathe himself, to loathe what he himself had created. That could only watch as they fell, loyal doves burned at the stake for love, for a family he had only found in the demons that surrounded them. For a love, he only felt with them. He doesn’t stifle the tears that follow the words. He prays that maybe Mammon can forgive him. 

The smell of burnt flesh fills the air. Despite the pungent smell they don’t gag. For they all remember it well. The feeling of fire burning into their flesh, panicked and feral screams. It had been so long...yet no one forgets the feeling of falling from heaven. 

“I put my trust in your will.” 

Isn’t it weird? How, out of all of them, Satan was the only one who never prayed. He had never tasted the holy words or felt the shine of the celestial sun. It felt wrong. Inside he knew why. He was a born demon, an evil that never wavers, a wrath that is never quelled. Would...would he even listen to him? Is he even worthy? Yet...yet he still kneels, eyes raking over Mammon for a single movement. He kneels because in Mammon lied something holy that he knew he’d never have. 

In Mammon, there was something so divine and bright that Satan never needed to see the celestial realm. It was within his stories and greed. Within his love and the bonds of his family. 

He prays, not to a God but to Mammon. That the brightness inside him only grows. In hope that they had not stamped it out. That he shines so bright that he may light the Devildom. Not to finally see heaven but to see Mammon smile once more. 

The murmurs of prayers mix and mingle into a holy cocktail. The prayer swirls and contorts around Mammon. The light sears into their skin, pressing against them and overwhelming them fully. It almost moves away as if seared itself. As if it realizes who the prayers are from. 

And you...well, religion was a bit awkward for you. An exchange student in hell, found family in demons cast out. When you had only started believing a year ago. Before you were clouded in ignorance. When you prayed it had been to a God only vague and unforgiving. But then again, that was before and this is now. Now you had been blessed with love and a wholeness that you hadn’t felt in years. You often wonder how demons can be so holy. How your protector and first man could be so righteous. 

You kneel and pray, and for the first time, you know you mean the words you speak. You mean them with every ounce of your being. You pray to the God that has hurt these beings so. To the one who cast out love itself. You pray that he may hold that same feeling (that same love) in his heart for a soul he once held and bless it once more. 

“In Jesus’s name... **Amen**.” 

The hearth of the celestial realm burns in their chests. It scorches their wings, tails, and cracks through their horns. Their skin melts against their muscles, frothing with blood. They can feel their darkened souls being chipped away ever so slightly. A crackling in their chest as they are once more damned. 

They reveal within the pain, screams, and cries alike. You can only watch on in horror. 

In a single chaotic moment, the room turns white with light and pain. 

They can almost hear the words. The apology and love from the heavens. Though they suppose it’s only wishful thinking because- 

Mammon doesn’t move. 

Then the tears come in waves. 

Lucifer thinks for a moment that their prayers weren’t answered - _does he deserve redemption? A single moment of peace?_ \- when Mammon jolts up. He heaves out heavy breaths, faltered with coughs. 

“I-...” Mammon can feel the faint magic of the celestial realm flit from his body as he opens his eyes. The holy light, the feeling of peace, of love, and contentness. It burns his chest. 

He turns to see his brothers knelt before him. Blisters and sores coat their bodies. Fires rage from their clothing and a red settles into their skin. 

Mammon knows what they have done. He can almost hear the storm of chaotic darkness swirl outside. 

“...” 

Lucifer can feel the pride attempt to shackle him down. The vulnerability presses tight against his rib cage but his heart beats for his family. He dashes forward, arms wrapped around Mammon. He leaves it no room to stifle him now. 

“We love you, Mammon. _I_ love you. I am so _so_ proud of you.” 

Lucifer wants to say so much more. Explain his emotions and expand on his love but all that comes out are sobs. It’s ugly and harsh with garbled sobs. 

There is a moment where his brothers stiffen at the sound. At the coarse sound of Lucifer’s cries ( _it had been so long since they heard such sounds from him_ ). 

But then Mammon flinches away. 

“N...No!” Mammon worms his arms between their chest and pushes Lucifer away. They couldn’t just...they couldn’t just pray for his health, damn themselves once more, and think they’re okay! 

He had prayed too. Mammon had punished himself with heavenly torment. He had prayed for love. For some semblance of what they once had. Prayers from a demon don’t get answered. He lets his eyes wash over their newfound injuries. No, even demons get their prayers answered. 

Just not scum like him. Not the stains and grime that Devildom has to offer. 

“Get- get off of me, damn it!” Mammon shoves Lucifer off of him. No, he won’t get off for hurting him this time. He won’t let this time be like all the others. 

Lucifer falls back on his haunches and looks up at him in…, not anger. Mammon’s heart aches at the look he gives him. It should be anger. It’s always anger. It’s anger and disappointment...so why does he look so pained now? 

Mammon quickly presses himself into a corner of the couch furthest from his brothers (the word tastes terrible in his mouth). He watches the exits and flexes his muscles. 

_Could I make it if I run? I’d have nothing on me. No dignity, no phone. Nothing. Still…_

“Mam-” 

“No! You can’t...I can’t- I can’t keep doin’ this. Ya can’t just apologize and pray that everythin’ will be okay when I’ve been dealing with this for CENTURIES. I’ve let ya walk all over me for so long and ya think when I finally find an outlet, when I finally stand up for ma’ self that it all goes away?” 

He can still feel the bruises, the rope, the shame. That shame never goes away. It had attached itself to his soul and ate away at what was left. 

“I-” He tries his best to dampen the tears but they bubble over and spill into his words. “I can’t keep doin’ this...I thought at first I could take it. That maybe ya guys were jus’ grieving, that maybe ya'll just needed an outlet and...” He swallows thickly. “-At first I was okay with it. If it meant that maybe ya’ll were okay then I’d do it. But then-” He can hear the hatred well in his throat. Before he’d resent that. Resent that he had any inch of hatred toward his loved ones. To the only people that still accepted him. But now...now he lets the anger flow through him freely. “Then ya jus’ got worse and worse. And your words hurt more and more. And for a long time, I thought I was what was wrong. Maybe I really was jus’ the scum beneath your fingernails, Lucifer. That I was never anything better.” 

He watches them cry. Horror filled looks with red-lined eyes. It didn’t make up for the nights that he had spent crying to himself. Wishing he had been made different, wishing that someone could care for him, if even for a moment. 

“I think now that maybe I was wrong...That maybe I wasn’t the problem.” But inside Mammon knows this isn’t true. How could they, crafted so carefully by Father be worse them him? Worse than their scummy brother who found comfort in pain. Who beat demons for an emotion he never deserved. 

_Respect_. 

He watches them, glowering down at them. And it feels wrong...He should be hugging them and begging for forgiveness. He should be crumbled at their feet but he doesn’t. He can only watch on. Waiting for an answer. For anything. 

“You’re right.” Lucifer finally speaks. 

Mammon is taken back. Out of all things that...is not what he expected him to say. 

“Wh-wha’?” 

Lucifer rises to his feet, tear-streaked cheeks and puffy eyes. 

“I...we...were the problem. You never were the problem Mammon.” He kneels before him once again, softly reaching out. 

“I never told you how I truly felt and only expected the best out of you. That was wrong of me. I apologize. I swear to you Mammon, please let me make it right.” 

Lucifer has never been so vulnerable. In all of Mammon’s years, he has never seen something quite like this. It hurts him in a way he cannot comprehend. 

Lucifer stands, ridding his face of tears, and straightens his spine. He presses one hand in his heart and gives Mammon a proper military salute. 

“Mammon. The second born of seven. The avatar of greed. I am proud of you.” 

Mammon feels his breath catch in his throat. 

“I have always been proud of you. I honestly believe that you are the closest thing we have to the celestial realm. You bring so much life to our lives, to my life and I am grateful for that. Despite my anger and reservations, I am grateful. I pushed you too far and I am at fault for that. I always wanted to see the best in you because I knew you could do it and in that, I neglected you and how you felt. I’m sorry, Mammon. I hope you can accept my apology.” 

And Mammon can’t find the air in his lungs. 

Levi moves to stand beside him. 

“We are proud of you. You always find the time to game with me, despite having a job and all your side hustles. Even though you’re a normie, you indulge in my interest, in your own tsundere ways and I never told you how happy that made me. I should have never called you those things. You mean more to me than words can express and I shouldn’t have let my jealousy of that get the better of me. Thank you, Mammon for everything you do for me.” Hand up in a salute and the dorkiest smile on his face. “Thank you.” 

“I don’t like to admit it but you always keep me on my toes Mammon. I love to tease and argue with you because that’s always how we’ve been. But then I let my insults and jokes get out of hand and that was wrong of me. I love you, Mammon and I’m prouder than I am off myself. No one makes my day like you do, no one parties and dances like you do and I’m proud to be seen with you.” 

Asmodeus approaches the forming line. Mammon has never seen him so frazzled but the adoration gleams in his eyes brighter than any star. 

“Mammon...You have always been there for me. When I was a difficult and raging child, when I felt like I didn’t fit in. You made me feel at home. I am beyond proud to have you as my brother. Just because you have different interests and strengths I never should have belittled you for that. I apologize for my lackluster actions. I...I love you, Mam.” 

Satan, red face and furrowed brows barely manages to look Mammon in his eyes. The same small kid who was so afraid and angry. How could Mammon ever forget? 

“I’m not too good with words...You already know but I’m sorry I never protected you like I was supposed to, Mammon. You always showed me of the best parts of Lilith, of the celestial realm, of myself. I...I thank you for that. You made the days a lot more bearable and no matter how greedy you seemed you always had money to spare for a snack or two. I’m proud to have fought besides you. I’m proud to have you in my life.” 

The tallest yet so young. Mammon remembers when he was up to his chest. Now he looks down at Mammon with red-rimmed eyes, and a wobbly smile. Mammon can’t help but think how much he had grown up. 

“...I-You always were there for me despite how...angry I had been about everything...You would tell me the best bedtime stories and sing me terrible lullabies. Without you...I think I would have let my hatred consume me. Thank you, Mam. Thank you so much. I- I love you.” 

And it all seems so bizarre. So fantastical. Something from the furthest reaches of Mammon’s imagination. Built from dreams and hopes long lost to time. He doesn’t want to believe it. 

“I-I don’t...I still hurt. You hurt me for so long that- that I stop trusting myself. I stopped being proud that I was your brother because I thought I didn’t even deserve to be called one.” He wipes away the tears again, and again but they keep coming. 

He doesn’t see how they flinch at his words. 

“I’ve been hurting for so long, I don’t know if I can stop.” 

Lucifer crouches close to him, a hand out in offering. “I know...I know. But I hope that maybe, just maybe you can let us atone for that.” 

“You’ll try?” He feels like a kid again. Wet nose and trembling lips.   
  
“Yes, Mammon.” 

“You’ll listen to me?” 

“Of course.” 

“You won’t keep hanging me by my feet?” 

“I think a new method of punishment needs to be found. I won’t hurt you anymore Mammon. I promise.” 

_Do I believe him?_

He wants to. Oh Father, does he want to. But he’s so scared. So scared that it’ll all come back to this moment. Where they beg for his forgiveness and he falls so helplessly for it. He’s been so, so tired. 

But Lucifer looks up at him with those eyes. The same eyes that he’d look at him when they soared above the clouds. When the heavens accepted their heathenish souls. Full of love, acceptance, and pride. 

So Mammon does what he did oh, so many years ago. He takes Lucifer’s hand and puts all of his trust in him. 

And Lucifer laughs. That deep, cherry laugh as tears roll down his cheeks. 

Mamon can’t stop himself from throwing his arms around his shoulders and sobs. He heaves as the pain blossoms from his chest but he doesn’t mind. Because this pain finally means he is loved. It means he is appreciated and something they can be proud of. 

_That_ is all Mammon ever wanted. 

Gradually his brothers join the huddle. And it’s then that they finally feel like family. 

Lilith may not be there but it’s okay. He has his brothers and- 

You can only bring yourself to watch. It’s almost funny, their heads muddled together as they cry like children. You suppose, maybe this is the first time they’ve really allowed themselves to cry since the war (where they’ve allowed each other to see). 

Lucifer turns, reaching a palm out toward you. “You’re a part of this family too.” 

You don’t hold back from jumping onto the pile. Arms pulling the brothers as close as possible. You really were blessed. 

Eventually, the hug falls apart. They fall back, red cheeks, and sore shoulders. Asmodeus gathers items for healing, prepared to “wipe away all his sorrows and replace them with love”. Beel and Belphie bring him his favorites. Snacks upon meals and gallons of drinks. Levi brings in his favorite romcoms (he’s shocked Levi knows which ones they are, he supposes you told him), stumbling over his feet and talking miles and miles around them. Satan sets up the living room in perfect sleepover fashion, making Mammon king of it all. 

And Lucifer stays right by his side. He weaves little bits of magic (that his body can handle) into his flesh and holds him tight. You’re set beside him whispering reassurances into his hair. 

He knows that things may not go back to how they were but they will get better. They will joke and laugh and cry and hate as they do, for they are only human on the inside. And while Mammon can still feel the darkness of his worries and fears surrounding him he doesn’t worry. He wants to be better and he’ll try despite everything. 

He doesn’t fail to notice the small spark of heavenly light warming his chest. 

He has his family beside him, and he knows now that he is more than scum. More than sadness and evil. 

He is Mammon, the Secondborn. Avatar of Greed. 

And he is far more than scum beneath _anybody's_ fingernails. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> D O N E.
> 
> I'm not exactly happy with the results of this chapter. I had a part in my drafts that was basically Diavolo arriving with reinforcements because prayer in Devildom was illegal but decided against it. The current ending is a little too "the power of friendship!" for me but if I attempted another rewrite my executive dysfunction would kill me before I finished. 
> 
> This fic was bound to happen through my rambling on an obey me discord server and my projection through Mammon. His relationship with Lucifer is an interesting one. How he ultimately respects Lucifer and Lucifer sees him as a cute younger brother yet the reality has him hanging him from the chandelier and his brother's constant bullying? Bullshit but also interesting. But then again this entire story was (again) me projecting. 
> 
> Thank everyone for commenting. It meant the world to me and helped me continue writing. I spent hours smiling at the words and honestly my depression this week got pretty bad but with the comments it made it so much more bearable. Thank you thank you thank you!
> 
> I plan on writing more for obey me! I have the Natural with You series I'm working on, a satan obey me monster au (from mawwart on tumblr) and I plan on finishing on my old BNHA fic. 
> 
> Thank you again! 
> 
> ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎


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